


Lawless

by LavenderandSage



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Maybe - Freeform, Officer Sweat Pea, One Shot, Riverdale, Riverdale AU, The Southside Serpents, shameless flirting, sweet pea - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-11-09 04:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderandSage/pseuds/LavenderandSage
Summary: You never thought being you’d be arrested.Then again, you never expected to be interrogated by a tall, dark, handsome police officer by the name of Sweet Pea.Maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

“Well, you seem to be in a lot of trouble here,” the officer said, as he sat himself down across the table from you. 

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, but you remained stoned face, glancing down at your handcuffed hands. You couldn’t tell if you were nervous because you had never been arrested before or because the officer sitting in front of you, was unspeakably handsome. 

His raven hair tousled back in a careless manner was a stark contrast to his olive skin, his almond-shaped eyes, a dark brown that hinted at a playfulness despite his no-nonsense demeanor. You couldn’t tell if he was a newbie, a seasoned officer or somewhere in between, but you could tell that you were extremely attracted to him which didn’t make anything easier. 

“Your boyfriend wants to press charges against you,” he said, opening a folder with your freshly taken mugshot on the top of the pile. He pushed it aside as his long calloused fingers reached for a pen. 

“Ex-boyfriend,” you clarify quickly. “Of course he does.” 

His eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. “Ex-boyfriend,” he repeated, taking another note. 

His eyes drifted back up to meet yours. “So tell me, why were you breaking and entering into your _ ex-boyfriend’s _ house?” His posture changed ever so slightly, leaning forward as if he genuinely intrigued. 

A police tactic, sure enough, feigning compassion, you thought to yourself. You were always quite analytical but now the stories in your mind where spiraling and you were overthinking everything. 

“He has something of mine and he refused to give it back,” you stated simply, not breaking your stare from his dark one, biting back a shiver licking up the base of your spine. 

His lip twitched and you immediately wondered what those lips were capable of. 

“What does he have?” he pressed, leaning forward a little more, closing the distance between you a little more.

“It’s not important,” you muse softly. “My fate is sealed one way or another, whatever that may be.” 

Surprise flickered over his features. “And why do you say that?” 

You lean forward, resting on your elbows, a smirk playing on the corners of your lips as the metal from the handcuffs clanked against the wooden table. “Please, like you genuinely care,” you scoff. “You just need my side of the story to prove I’m guilty so Malachai can press charges on me and you can get a pat on the back from the sheriff for doing your job.” 

He smiled tightly, leaning back in the chair. “Well, look at you. You’re not as meek and mild as I thought,” he chuckled. “Got some bite behind that bark?” 

“Wanna find out?” you cantered, finding that the more you flirted, the more your nerves ebbed away. 

His lip trailed over his bottom lip briefly, before tugging the bottom of his plump lip between his pearly whites. 

A pleasant distraction from the gravity of the situation. 

“I want to find out what he has of yours first,” he pressed. “I’ve been doing this for a while now. A girl like you, with no priors doesn’t just break into an ex-boyfriend’s house to retrieve just anything. This something means a lot to you.” 

You blink in surprise, all playful demeanor gone for a split second but you recover quickly. 

“Maybe I’ve just never been caught before,” you countered.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” he placed the pen down, standing up showing off all six-plus feet of him. Your breath hitched in your throat as he drew closer to you. 

Even if you had been standing, he would have towered over you. He perched himself on the corner of the table now, his leg hanging dangerously close to yours, the lack of contact electrifying. 

“And you’re avoiding my question, which tells me that whatever he has, is incredibly personal and probably very emotional to you. I want to help you.”

Your chest tightened uncomfortably and you avoided his heavy gaze. 

He observed you squirming uncomfortably in your chair and gently reached out placing his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing ever so gently. “Let me help you,” he soothed softly. 

“It’s a necklace. It belonged to my mother,” you finally expose yourself, feeling the heat from his palm radiating through you. You tried to focus on that as opposed to the tightening of your throat again.

“Why does he have it?”

“He won’t give it back.” 

“How did he get it in the first place?” 

“A few weeks ago, we got into a big fight and he grabbed me by the neck and the necklace chain snapped and fell on the floor. He had never gotten physical before so it scared me enough that I just left. I had heard stories before but I thought I was different. That I could make him different. I couldn’t.” There was an edge to your voice, feeling the humiliation of your confession leak through your body. 

“I’ve been asking for it back,” you continued. “ He wouldn’t, so I waited till I thought he was gone to try and get it. Apparently didn’t work out as I planned.” 

He nodded slightly, slipping off the table, retracting his hand from you. “Okay,” was all that he said.

“Okay?” you repeat confusing coloring your face already missing his warmth. The interrogation room was cold you noticed as goosebump pricked your exposed skin. 

He returned to his notes, scribbling frantically when there was a loud knock at the door. 

“Yea?” he answered as he looked up. An older man entered, with salt and peppered hair and beard to match. Average in height, slim yet muscular, you noticed the sheriff's badge pinned on his uniform. 

“Sweet Pea, it seems like you’ve got this under control,” he said. 

Sweet Pea? What an odd name. You hadn’t caught his name before this. 

Sweet Pea closed the folder, making sure all the papers were stuffed inside. “This is an easy one. I’ll finish this one up and do the paperwork later.” 

The sheriff took the folder, tucking it under his arm. “Good, say hi to our old friend for me,” he smiled slyly. 

“Will do, boss.” Sweet Pea said, “Oh, FP? Tell Jughead if he’s late again, I’m personally going to kick his ass. I really fucking hate the night shift.” 

The sheriff, FP, barked out a laugh, walking out the door. “I’ll see what I can do, son.” 

Sweet Pea looked back at you, “Well, at least one good thing came out of the night shift,” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm as your lips pulled up into a smile. “Sweet Pea, huh? So Officer SP, am I going to jail?”

He returned your smile with a dazzling one of his own. 

“No, you aren’t,” he said, reaching down to pull your hands up onto the table. His fingers danced around the handcuffs, unlocking them and taking them off your wrists. “Malachai is a piece of shit. We brought you in as a formality. Sorry, I tried to scare you.” 

“Pity. With you around, prison doesn’t seem so bad,” you shrug, rubbing your sore wrists. As playful as the words were, relief saturated you. 

His jaw tightened and clenched as he shook his head. “Wow, you, _ are _ trouble,” he murmured. 

“Guess I’m in the right hands then,” you mused, standing up. 

“Before you take off, we’re going to go for a little ride before my shift is over,” he said, glancing at the clock. 

“Why? I thought you weren’t arresting me?”

“We are going to get your necklace back,” he stated simply. 

You froze for a moment, gratitude flooding through your entire body as you exhaled heavily. 

“Really?” you breathed.

He nodded, “Really.” 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, trailing off. 

Sweet Pea broke all sense of professionalism, “I can certainly think of a way or two,” he suggested. 

Your head snapped up to look at him. His lips were set in a thin line, his eyes dancing over your frame. 

“Well, let’s go get my necklace and I’d be happy to thank you all night long,” the words dripping from your lips. 

He smirked, his fingers twitching. “You know, I may not be arresting you, but I do think you should be punished,” he whispered, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. 

Involuntarily, you groaned softly, knees turning to jelly beneath you. 

“Make sure you bring the handcuffs.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get what’s yours and a little more…

“This way,” Sweet Pea murmured, navigating you through the dark parking lot. 

You blindly followed him to a parked police vehicle where he held the passenger door open for you. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have a motorcycle,” you mused playfully, as you ducked your head and sat down. You mentally noted the front seat was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the back, as you discovered just a few short hours prior. 

“It’s my preferred method of getting around this place,” he admitted. “However, I don’t think you could handle me on a motorcycle.” 

You flushed as he barked out a laugh and shut the door, walking around the front of the vehicle to the driver’s side. 

He was absolutely right. You couldn’t. The sheer thought of him on a motorcycle had you clenching your thighs together tightly.

Once he began driving you imagined you’d relax a little, but that proved to be wrong. Every little move he made, a subtle bite of his lip, the steering wheel slipping through his calloused palms as he turned, readjusting his shirt collar, you seemed to be hyper-aware of it all. 

“You’re staring at me again,” he commented, tossing a sly smirk your way. 

“I can’t help it,” you teased, remembering how flirting seemed eased the buzzing bees in your stomach and relax you. “You cut me loose and are now you’re helping me? I’m wooed, what can I say?” 

“Wooed, you say?” he pressed. 

“Among other things,” you replied simply, watching his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. 

“Care to share?” 

“You’re very attractive,” 

“Am I attractive or just attractive to you?” he asked a smile playing on his lips.

“Both,” you concluded confidently after a moment. 

Content with your answer, he relaxed against his seat, the corner of his lips still turned up. “I find you attractive as well,” he said. 

“Is that all?” Now it was your turn to press. 

“Now,” he shot you a quick glance, returning his dark eyes back to the road’s attention, “if I were to tell you I find you as attractive as hell and that I quite frankly, I can’t stop thinking of bending you over the interrogation table and fucking you silly, that would distract us from our little mission. Wouldn’t it?”

Your mouth went dry, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth as you manage a terribly weak, “Yeah?” 

He chuckled lowly, it stemming from deep in his chest and you felt the heat pooling in your stomach and in your cheeks. Was it suddenly a hundred degrees warmer in the vehicle? 

Swallowing loudly allowed you to speak a little clearer. “Yea, that would certainly distract me,” you finally choked out.

“I thought so,” his voice saturated with amusement.

You were left with the blessed imaginary of this tall, brooding character hovering over your wanting body in a dimly lit police room, the bite of the cool table underneath your backside. 

“Malachai is bad news,” he switched the subject, interrupting your dirty little daydream. “He’s well-known around these parts. How did you get tangled up with him?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” You preferred not to be reminded of your life’s poor decisions. 

“Just wondering why a girl like you would even entertain the idea of being with someone like him.” 

You allowed yourself to take a deep breath. “He wasn’t all bad at first. A real sweet talker, kind, maybe even thoughtful.”

Sweet Pea made a disapproving noise somewhere in the back of his throat. 

“But maybe that’s who he pretends to be to get his claws into you,” you thought aloud. “How do you know him? Besides his obvious run-ins with the law?”

“We go way back,” he replied. “Back when we were in rival gangs.” 

“You were in a gang?” You exclaimed shrilly, your hands landed on the dashboard in front of you to metaphorically support this new piece of (sexy) information.

He wasn’t fazed, as if he was used to this type of reaction from people. 

“The Southside Serpents,” he smiled fondly as he was remembering something sweet. “Technically still in the gang, we’re just made up of the police force now.” 

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you gasped. 

This man was trying to kill you. Absolutely trying to kill you. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll pull out the old leather jacket for you,” he teased softly with a chuckle. 

“Maybe if _ you’re _ lucky, I’ll let you wear it while I ride you,” 

His head whipped to the side, his eyes dark with lust. “Now, who’s being distracting,” he grunted out huskily, squirming in his seat.

He turned the car into a familiar neighborhood. You felt everything inside of you tighten and constrict. Sweet Pea noticed the shift in your energy immediately. 

“Hey,” he spoke loudly, drawing you away from your thoughts. “It’s fine, I’ll handle everything.” 

You nodded, “Thanks,” you sighed, wringing your hands in your lap. It felt like there was l handcuffs on your wrist again.

You hated Malachai. 

You hated that he had tricked you, used you, lied to you. 

You hated that you fell for it. 

You felt weak and foolish. 

He pulled into the driveway. “Let’s go,” he said, his door swinging open with no hesitation. 

You however, reluctantly got out of the safety of the car, following him up the beaten pathway, stuffing down any of the last bad memories you had about the place. About him. 

Sweet Pea knocked twice on the door and you fought the urge say ‘fuck it’ altogether.

The door swung open and Malachai appeared in front of you, a smirk growing across his face as his arms folded across his bare chest. 

“Officer,” his voice oozed sarcasm, “how can I be of service to you?” His beady eyes flickered over to you and it took everything in you not to shrink behind Sweet Pea. 

“Evening, I’m here to retrieve property for this young lady,” 

Malachai’s smirk was replaced by a dark scowl, “I have nothing of hers. I already told her that. Furthermore, I said I wanted to press charges against the bitch!” 

Your fingers curled tightly into fists, a reaction only Malachai could produce from you. 

You took a step forward, forgetting your fear but Sweet Pea put out an arm blocking you before you even took a step.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he stated calmly, shifting his dark gaze down at Malachai. “Here is the deal, you get her necklace and I won't arrest you for assault.” 

“Me?” Malachai bantered. “She broke into my house! I’ve done nothing!” 

“You have my mother’s necklace, you asshole!” you shouted at him, losing your self control.

“Prove it!” he snarled. 

Sweet Pea remained still, his voice low and smooth. “Enough. Get the necklace now, Malachai or I haul _you_ in right now.” 

He murmured a string of curse words, sulking down the hall and returning promptly his fist balled up tightly.

Sweet Pea held his hand out expectantly and Malachai dropped it into his palm.

You peered down at the necklace, your stomach dropping.

“That’s not it,” you stated dryly.

What if he got rid of it? What if it was gone forever? 

Hot tears pricked your eyes at even the thought of it. 

Before you could say or do anything else, Sweet Pea had Malachai up against the living room wall, his large forearm pressed against Malachai’s neck. “Do you think I’m fucking kidding around here?” he barked, merely inches from his face.

Malachai bucked against his arm but got nowhere. 

“Go and find it,” Sweet Pea said to you with a nod of his head. 

You didn’t need any more encouragement. You ran into Malachai’s room, ignoring his colorful language directly at both you and Sweet Pea. You looked around for a few minutes, tearing in and through every surface, you could think of. Finally, much to your relief, you found it tucked away in a dresser drawer. 

You clutched it tightly, drawing it to your chest, sighing a huge breath of relief. The chain was still broken but the little charm was intacted, unharmed and now safe. 

You returned back to the living room, practically beaming. “Got it!” you exclaimed with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. 

Sweet Pea finally released Malachai and took a step back as if nothing had happened. “I see that everything is in order here,” he said gruffly. “Thanks for your help, Malachai. I’ll let the boys down at the station know that we aren’t pressing assault charges on you, for now.” 

His mouth dropped and before another word (or swear) could fall from his lips, Sweet Pea guided you out and back to the car. 

It was over.

Once you were back on the road to the police station, you felt safe enough put the broken chain with its charm in your pocket. 

“Sweet Pea, thank you,” you say unsure how to properly express how much the gesture meant you. 

He smiled, “You’re welcome, happy to help.” 

The remainder of the ride was fairly quiet until he pulled into the parking lot. 

“Little shit,” he snarled suddenly, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. 

“What?” you asked, startled by his outburst. 

“Jughead’s motorcycle isn’t here! He’s fucking late again!” Sweet Pea shook his head angrily, muttering someone under his breath about always covering this Jughead’s ass. 

You climbed out of the car, walking over to his side and swinging his door open. He looked up at you, surprise coloring his face as he got out of the driver’s seat. 

You reached up, wrapping your fingers in the collar of his shirt and tugging him down closer to bring his lips to yours. 

It didn’t take long for him to recover from his surprise. His plush lips met yours with an eagerness as his hands found your hips, drawing you into his body. 

You welcomed the gesture, but you had other ideas. You reached behind you, finding the car’s handle with your fingers and opened the backdoor of the police vehicle. He immediately picked up on your lead, helping you with the door and gently pushing you inside. 

No sooner had you barely gotten inside, he was scaling your body until your lips were reconnected in a frenzy. He pressed the weight of his body on top of yours as your fingers tangled in his raven hair at the nape of his neck. 

When you gently tugged, his mouth parted slightly and you took the opportunity to run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He groaned softly into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours in response. 

Heaven.

This is what heaven must be like, you managed to think before he ducked his head, connected his lips to a sweet spot on your neck. Electricity licked up your spine as you tilted your chin up giving him permission to move further down. 

But you felt him leave the crook of your neck and couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. 

“Naughty girl,” he whispered breathlessly, nosing your jawline and nipping at your earlobe. 

You smiled lazily, reaching up to cup the side of his face. You pulled him back to reconnect your lips, savoring the way he responded.

“Jughead isn’t here,” he murmured against you. “Remember what I said?”

Your mind was hazy and it was hard to remember anything prior to this moment. “No,” you cooed, kissing him deeply once more. 

His fingers trailed from your jawline, down the slope of your neck and back again gripping your chin firmly. “About bending you over my interrogation table?” he reminded you, the promise of passionate sex in his grip. 

_Oh. _

You bit your bottom lip hard, your hooded eyes meeting his lusty ones.

You nodded unable to produce words. 

He grinned that 100-watt smile at you, easing himself off of you and pulling you out of the car. “I also remember a little something about handcuffs too…” he smirked. 

You couldn’t help but grin. “Lead the way, Officer,” you motioned towards the door. 

He rewarded you with a swift slapp on the ass. “Good girl,” he smirked, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before leading the way to the back entrance. 

Getting arrested turned out to be the absolute best thing to happen to you all year. You could hardly believe it.

As you walked down the empty hall to the interrogation room, Sweet Pea’s towing you behind him you couldn’t help that maybe you’d be lucky enough to have this Officer Jughead stumble into his shift finally and come across the scene.

Tonight, more than ever, You felt lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned this as just a one-shot to experiment with 2nd person perspective (not my favorite, but a nice learning curve) but the response was so overwhelming, I added a part two! Hooray!
> 
> With that said, I'm so sorry for the delay! I am purchasing a house NEXT WEEK (AHHHHHH) and it's been a lot of work preparing for this. Plus, my band has been booking shows for the first time in 2 years so practice has been a must! BUT hopefully, you enjoy this little addition! 
> 
> Let me know what you think. Comments or kudo's or whatever are so appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder if I should follow it up with a part two... Thoughts?


End file.
